The Comedown:

Basically a Spuffy fan/song-fic self challenge for metalcore fans and buffy fans alike.

A/N: Takes place in season 6. Sometime after the first time to be exact ;)

Buffy was pinned up against a tree, unable to move. The bone blade from the Miquot demon firmly held her sleeves in place as Kulak's orphaned sister Rutek rounded on Buffy, her murderous red eyes glaring down at the slayer.

Tonight was her night. She was claiming vengeance. For her brother. For her clan. For herself.

She was less than 2 paces away from the panicked slayer when a figure shrouded in leather crash tackled the demon. Rutek pushed Spike off of her and shot fresh bone missiles towards him. Spike deflected the bone darts with a makeshift gauntlet, crouching to pick one up that had dropped neatly in front of him. He twirled on the spot and hurled it at Rutek's neck, badly puncturing her cardoid artery. Blood was spraying everywhere as Spike mercifully leapt towards her and snapped her neck.

He walked away, spitting back at her before saying, "It's a good thing I don't drink demon, that could've been a lot slower, pet." His high cheekbones drew in as she smirked at this thought, imagining a human in place of the Miquot.

Buffy glared at Spike as he removed the bone fragments from the elm trunk.

"You alright?" he checked, grabbing the last one and setting her on her feet.

"I'm fine, I guess I just had my mind on the dweevils and she caught me off guard. It was a she, right?" Buffy replied, frowning doubtfully.

"The breasts made me think so, she definitely had the voice of a John though." Spike replied. "I haven't come across many Cumqauts bef-"

"Miquots, Spike. I've only gone up against one, but you'd remember the first one of those." She smiled sardonically to herself.

"Bollocks to that, pet." Spike said offhandedly, edging closer to Buffy's side as they walked through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries.

"What are you doing, Spike?" Buffy asked perceptively.

"What? You're not keen then? I just figured with all that pent up frustration, and having to rely on me to save your scrawny hide, you might be a bit fretted. You know how much I like to play." He smirked, taking a wistful swipe at her golden hair. Buffy turned to him and glowered.

"Look, that was once, and you know why. I was weak, and you were there." Buffy murmured coldly to his pale face.

"I'm here right now slayer, and quite frankly I'm in the right mood for either." Spike stated.

"Either?"

"Yeah. Either. Either wiping the floor with you, or making it quake with you."

With that, Spike swung a sloppy backhand at her cheek, which Buffy caught easily and twisted harshly, forcing him to his knees. Her eyes raced over the monster before her. He was both her savior and nemesis tonight. She feasted on him, his vulnerability rolling off of him in waves.

"How about both?" She mouthed seductively.

She let his wrist go so he could straighten himself, then grabbed both and pinned him against the headstone behind him. She took his neck in her mouth and sucked roughly, drawing the blood to the surface. He had to resist every urge to do the same, knowing that it was much more dangerous for him to be rough, and not necessarily to her. They fought for position, Buffy finally straddling him and pinning his wrists to the soil they lost themselves to.

Once they were done, Buffy put her screens up and gave him a curt, if not abusive, farewell.

"So what, you're gonna go home and pretend this didn't just happen then. Again!" Spiked asked, frustration showing in his tone.

She turned around, considering his naked form on the cold, soft soil. "I have to pretend."

She gave him one last look. "Until I need it again, at least."